


stimming & the color purple

by intherainstorm



Series: Autistic Jihoon [1]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Aspie!Jihoon, Autism, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 09:01:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6848116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intherainstorm/pseuds/intherainstorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The sounds he could make with just a piano and a computer, they were just so colorful and beautiful. The song he was working on now was soft, with careful chords on the piano and a gentle beat in the background. He liked it, the sound felt almost like a soft purple in his ears. But not good enough, he had to make it even better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	stimming & the color purple

**Author's Note:**

> idk guys this is just self indulgent aspie!Jihoon that I wrote at 2 am because I had a lot of thoughts
> 
> and this is based of my own experiences, so it might be a bit ooc so sorry bout that <3

Jihoon was sitting in his studio with sound proof headphones on. He wds listening to the song he had been working on these past… Five hours? Four hours? He always forgot about the time when he got deep into his work. Especially his music. The sounds he could make with just a piano and a computer, they were just so colorful and beautiful. The song he was working on now was soft, with careful chords on the piano and a gentle beat in the background. He liked it, the sound felt almost like a soft purple in his ears. But not good enough, he had to make it even better.

He hadn’t eaten either. He always forgot. Jihoon didn’t have time for food, sleep or other trivial stuff when he had a good flow going. He could sit there forever, not drinking or eating, until he passed out or someone came and gave him food or made him sleep.

“Take care of yourself, please Jihoon?”

Take care of yourself. What did that mean exactly? He didn’t know how to do that. He knew how to write songs, and create sounds. Remembering how to take care of himself wasn’t really far up on his priority list. Humming softly, tapping the table with one hand, he adjusted the base in the song. There, that’s better.

Content with himself, Jihoon cracked his knuckles and waved his hands around, enjoying the feeling it gave him. He loved to express himself with movement, but people didn’t get that for some reason. When he was a kid, he’d been the weird short boy who flapped his arms wildly when he became very happy, tore his hair out when he was upset, and could lay on the ground screaming for minutes when he became angry.

Not now though, he kept it inside. But when he was alone, in his studio, he could wave his arms and scratch his scalp when he was upset and make loud noises when it felt right in his head. He had times when he slipped up and forgot that there was actually people around, and he made a loud screech that felt great for him, but people stared. His members stared. And then, once again, he remembered that he couldn’t do those things. Not around people. 

Seungcheol had gotten used to it though. He could see it, he could spot when the younger felt oversimulated and needed a break and just make his noises and flap his arms. When they sat in the studio and the leader wrote his raps together with Jihoon, because God forbid that there was anything that didn’t fit in Jihoon’s mind, then Jihoon could be himself. Around Seungcheol, he could be himself. The elder was always there for him, helping him with his thoughts and actions.

When he had one of those days, when he didn’t want to speak or look at people because it felt wrong and too much at one and every sound was like a slap to the face, then Seungcheol helped him, ever since they were trainees.. He helped him get to the safe space in his studio in peace, helped him get his headphones on and his favourite blanket that felt good against his pale, smooth skin. He took care if him during his meltdowns, whether it was one of the ones where he shut himself in the studio and screamed for hours, kicking his chair around and kicking everything that he could reach. When he clawed at himself, anger flowing through his entire body, Seungcheol came and helped him to calm down and get all that anger and all those emotions that became too much at once for him to handle.

Jihoon didn’t get a lot of those anymore. These days, his meltdowns weren’t loud and violent. More silent, but more painful for him. He laid in dark corners somewhere in the building, shaking and scratching at his scalp and things while shivering and crying and it was all too too much and everything just got to him too fast and he just-

Couldn’t

His leader couldn’t always help, of course not. These issues couldn’t be solved by a knight in shining armor, kissing all the pain away. But he helped. Seungcheol held him when he cried, held his hands so he couldn’t harm himself. He helped him to get away from all the noise when Seungkwan and Seokmin were having a singing competition after hours and hours of practice when Jihoon was just too tired to progress everything that happened. He helped him to hide away, wrapped him in his thick blanket in the studio and put those large headphones on him, softly stroking his body to make him calm once again. 

It was good though, Jihoon needed it.  
He needed him.  
Needing?  
Needing someone, desperation, longing...  
That could become a song, Jihoon thought.  
He stimmed with his hands, content with his idea, and kept on writing.


End file.
